...and a new one just begun. 2013 started out as one of the best years of my life, and ended up as one of the worst. Still, what doesn't kill you only makes you hurt like hell stronger, right? I suppose my expectations for 2014 have been lowered substantially, and maybe that's a good thing. This holiday season has been a depressing one despite "Doctor Who" and birthday get-togethers and turducken (I didn't decorate at all, which I think is a first), and while I was sorely tempted to stay home and sulk on New Year's Eve, I opted to go see Gogol Bordello at Terminal 5 instead. I tried not to witness an arrest on Secaucus Junction's track 2 platform while on my way to New York (probably drugs, but I don't know and didn't want to); I was largely unimpressed with the amount of beardage at the venue (why do today's kids feel the need to look like early 20th-century Midwestern farmers?); and I was rather unsympathetic to the teenager who asked me to buy a Budweiser for him, though at least he was gracious enough to accept my polite refusal. And he didn't have a beard, though it was probably not for lack of trying. The opening band, Man Man, were a lot better than I was expecting, and they certainly got the crowd going. Gogol Bordello, however, were on fire. They had the whole place dancing and jumping around, and they sounded incredible. And I got twerked on. Twice. Well, OK, the first girl definitely knew what she was doing, even if alcohol may have played a part, and I couldn't back away as I was leaning against a column. The two friends about twenty minutes later were probably just getting carried away with dancing and didn't know or care that they were grinding against someone, and it would've been rude of me to ask them to stop... At least they were only dancing. A few minutes after that, what I'd thought was a frenzied burst of dancing a few feet away turned out to be two girls fighting, and it took a few people to pull them apart. The band and the crowd counted down the last few seconds 'til midnight, and then we were showered with confetti (which I'm still finding).
Happy New Year!
I left before the encore began, in hopes of not getting home too late... and saw two more angry girls on the train; one slapped the other one's boyfriend before storming away. Ah, nothing like the holidays and alcohol to bring out the best in everyone. Anyway, I was home before 2:30 AM, and would've been home at least twenty minutes sooner, but New Jersey Transit decided to hold the westbound Main Line train for every single train that was coming in from New York, on the off chance that someone might want it. Thanks, NJT. I'm not doing the "resolutions" thing. There are goals I want to accomplish this year, and things I want to change about myself, but I don't think it's realistic to set them in stone on the first day of an arbitrary calendar, nor do I have a final list in my head. NaNoWriMo was another bust for me last November, but I did start a novel... just like I did last year. I want to write them both this year, or at least make some serious progress, so I can make a serious attempt this November. I want to get more music done; I've been writing and playing, and I've got new ideas (in addition to old ones that haven't been fleshed out yet), but I need to record more. I want to get back to organizing and uploading my collection of photos to the Gallery... of Death! In June, I'm going to do the Spartan Race with my colleagues Jenn and Vaida (we're the Eh Team), but that means that I need to stay focused on running and eating better than I have been these past two months. I'd like to run at least one 5K before then, too, just to make sure that I'm on the right track (so to speak); Jenn might accompany me as well. I want to be happy again, but that's not really a goal in and of itself. I need to take happy where I can find it, and hope that I find more and more. As a Chinese cookie reminded me on New Year's Eve, "Every person is the architect of his or her own fortune." Someone else may have taken away a reason for my happiness, but that doesn't mean that I can never be happy again. "I don't think my time is quite yet complete, So I'll follow the rhythm, and speed up the beat."
NaNoWriMo has me in its clutches, but I intend to run and to play guitar every day this month (at least) in addition to the writing. OK, I procrastinated Friday and Saturday, but I did manage to do all three today, and while I haven't produced as much text as I'd like just yet, I have started, and that puts me far ahead of where I was in the game last year. While I've not put too much planning into "The Divorce Is Final," I'm happy with the direction in which it's currently going, and I do have some general ideas and will no doubt develop more as I get deeper into it. I do want it to feel at least as much like fun as it does like work...
Isn't it?
Preeti dozed on the couch behind me this afternoon as Mozart streamed from the Apple TV and I began putting words to paper the cloud. (I'm sure the end of Daylight Saving Time means absolutely nothing to a creature who dozes most of her day away anyway.) Tuesday will mark one year since we brought her home to the apartment, and while our little family is littler than it was then, I think my female feline is pretty happy overall. Granted, she'd prefer to play fetch with her mousey for at least an hour a day longer than I consent to, but we do play. Meguilla the chinchilla gets her playtime, too. And her raisins. Mustn't forget the raisins. While I've mostly played either the Danelectro or the Kona acoustic/electric over the past two years, lately I've been eschewing both left-handed guitars for my old Epiphone knockoff of a right-handed Strat (strung and played "upside-down," of course). I do love the sound of the Danelectro, especially with the light top/heavy bottom strings I mainly use with it, but the Epiphone seems to rock more, and I like to play it slung down lower than my other guitars, which just feels more rock, too. Anyway, I played this evening 'til my fingers were sore, and then I played a little more. I'd planned on recording a new song or two this month, but I'm realizing that I can't really dedicate that much time to it, not if I want to get a 50,000-word novel done before December. That Entwistlian bassline for "I'll Live" that keeps running through my head is just going to have to wait a bit longer... I'll settle for getting a few new songs written, and although I'm not going to run a 5K before springtime, I'm determined to run every day and gradually get my endurance and my speed up to something that'll make a good showing when I do tackle my first race. Should help to keep those winter (and holiday!) pounds at bay, as well, and I'm starting to reintroduce some South Beach phase two recipes into my meals, after a lengthy period of not managing what I eat very well. Also going on this month: a weekend road trip to Boston with a couple of my colleagues, and "The Day of the Doctor." I've been a fan of "Doctor Who" since probably sometime around 1982, and this special looks to be... well, special. I'm going to watch the simulcast at the AMC Loews Village 7 in Manhattan on November 23rd, having snagged a ticket despite Fandango's ineptitude. Anyone else going? Anyone wishing they were? OK, I've written too many words already for something that isn't "The Divorce Is Final." ;-) I'm going to relax with a cup of hot chocolate and a scone. Later!
